


Tabloid Trash

by alchemystique



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemystique/pseuds/alchemystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian auditions for the role in part because he finds the star of the series, Ms. Emma Swan, to be an intriguing and beguiling woman. He takes the part because he's fallen in love with the character. What he doesn't expect is to be shot into superstardom, suddenly as much a fodder for tabloids as all the other actors he now works with. (past Neal-Emma)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabloid Trash

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. My hand slipped. Was listening to the radio on my way home from a Starbucks run (FREE DRINK BECAUSE I'M A HOLIDAY ADDICT, WHAT) and I heard something about Ed Sheeran giving Ellie Goulding the cold shoulder on the red carpet for blah blah blah and then this happened. 
> 
> I'm not even sorry.

_**BROKEN HEART: Emma Swan departs from local coffee bean sans makeup - is the burgeoning starlet letting herself go?** _

He clenches his fist around the pack of gum in his hand, his lip curling as he reads over the headline. Two young women in the line in front of him bend their heads close to whisper, darting less-than-covert eyes his way, and he gives them a full on stare - they both jump when they notice his gaze, faces flushing as they turn back to the older woman they are with, one who does not share in their abashed sentiments, if the way her eyes trail him up and down is anything to go by.

 _Bloody hell._ This tiny little town will be his undoing - there's not a single grocery in a ten mile radius that caters to his anti-social whims - not a single self-checkout from here to Toronto and he really, really wishes he'd just sent Smee in to pick up his shopping list. That's what the man was paid for, wasn't it?

Smee wasn't a bad driver, per se, but nor was he a good one, and Killian had been eager to get away from his incessant prattle when he'd practically leapt out the door of the town car twenty minutes before. But Storybrooke was a small town, and news of his arrival had sparked a ridiculous amount of curiosity. He'd figured by now they'd be used to it - the scale of this movie was particularly grand, and he was hardly the A-list actor Nolan, or Blanchard, or even Scarlett was. 

Not to mention Emma Swan. The little darling of this trilogy, a woman who had burst into stardom after the first movie had come out - she'd blasted her way to the top of every headline and had since worked with some of the best directors and actors in the business. He liked her - or at least, he liked what the world had shown of her - she was brash, no nonsense, had zero filter and was certainly not made for this world of scripted words and public relations, perfectly coiffed hair and rehearsed smiles, and he'd enjoyed her for it, amused by all her parsed out monosyllables and the way she'd just stare awkwardly at reporters who asked her too probing or too silly a question. 

It was half the reason he'd gone for the audition - two movies in and the main character was finally getting a love interest, and when he'd read the script he'd nearly burst into giddy applause - it was perfect, the sort of partnership every relationship should strive for, the two of them on equal footing, the kind of relationship that would put to rest the gossip rags talk of Love Triangles (he shudders at the phrase) and all that blather. 

He hasn't seen her in two months - not since the chemistry screening, and he can hardly think about that without an irrational burst of curiosity. 

"Will that be all, sir?"

Killian blinks. "Hmm?"

"Can I get you anything else, or...?" says the freckle-faced teen from behind the register, who looks like his eyes might fall straight out of his head if he rolls them any harder (and Killian is no novice in the art of the eye roll). 

"Just the gum, thanks," he tells the boy as he hands over the half-melted and crushed little package. He really needs to work on his anger management techniques.

The teen rings him up with no fanfare, waves him off with a less-than-halfhearted "Have a nice day..." (They are clearly not in Canada yet) and Killian makes his way across the lot to the car Smee has idling illegally by the curb. 

Killian gets an eyeroll of his own in when Smee makes a bumbling attempt to open the door for Killian - he's got the door halfway open before Smee squeezes himself out of the drivers seat, and his voice grates as he mumbles out a completely unnecessary apology.

"Get back in the bloody car and drive, Smee," he tells the man, his cherubic face going more red as he nods his assent. 

"Of course, sir. Right away sir."

He's grown to dislike the word 'sir' in the past few days.

\------

He gets there early for the table read - Regina Mills and her writing team all give him strange looks when he slides into the room with two coffee cups and an excess of swagger. 

"Well, you're certainly eager, aren't you?"

He mingles with the writing staff for a while as people trickle into the room - they all seem eager to talk things over with him, and he's glad for it - the character he's playing is one close to his heart and he's glad to know the writers are fond of him as well.

Nolan enters to a chorus of bright hellos, with Blanchard at his heels - the pair has done nothing to hide their relationship so far, and he knows PR is having a heyday with them - the perfect starlit couple to promote their franchise with, he's seen more odes to their real life romance than the movie's fierce enmity - he's seen the two on the screen and he has to say he prefers their sneering and biting words to the saccharine sweet way they ogle each other as they enter the room. (He doesn't think too hard on the blast of promotional materials they'd sent out of the two of them on the heels of Swan's rather public breakup with the only original cast member no longer on the project.)

The room is full only minutes later, and as he darts his eyes around the room one thing becomes glaringly obvious. Their darling movie star is late.

He spies Regina snapping angrily into her mobile from across the room, pacing back and forth, her heels snapping against the linoleum as her eyes flash - she's obviously beyond annoyed, her Bluetooth forgotten as she mutters into the mouthpiece of her surprisingly bedazzled iPhone - for such a no-nonsense woman there's quite a lot of sharp looking gemstones edging along the back of the cover. 

She drops the call with a grimace, looking every bit the expert cat herder as she quiets them all and manages to get them all in their seats. The seat beside him stays conspicuously empty, and as they go around the table introducing themselves Killian feels decidedly like the odd man out. He's met only a few of these people, has made friends with exactly none of them, and the rest of the cast has spent the last two and a half years getting to know each other.

He ignores the thought. He's here to make art, not friends.

(Even his own subconscious rolls its eyes at that.)

The door clatters open just as they reach him, and the room turns as one to stare at the new arrival. Killian's breath catches in his throat.

She's as beautiful as he remembers. Her hair, more confined this time than he remembers it being (flowing locks of straw-spun gold, sliding along her back and over her shoulders in waves) is up in a half-hearted bun, strands of it breaking free to curl around her face like a halo; her eyes, hidden behind the thick black frames of her glasses, gleam in the horrid fluorescent lighting of the room, sea-green on a calm-winded sail; long legs covered in a tight pair of jeans tucked into heavy-looking boots; her high-necked sweater covering her from wrist to jawline, the red-leather jacket he's seen her in before worn like a suit of armor as she apologizes to the room at large for her lateness.

She pauses in her footsteps when she realizes who occupies the seat next to the lone empty one, her eyes darting up to meet his with a kind of terrified hesitation.

She slides in next to him without meeting his gaze again, and he introduces himself as he slides one of the paper cups he'd brought with him across his body in her direction. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed, half the eyes in the room following the progress of the cup, instead of his words, and he ignores Emma's startled gaze as he sets the cup before her and returns to his practiced slouch beside her.

Regina takes over for a time after that, and he watches his neighbors internal debate as she plays with the edges of the drink lid - furtive glances in his direction followed by aborted movements to take the drink or push it away. 

Finally, halfway through Regina's longwinded speech (she'd make a wonderful Bond villain, with the monologuing she does) Emma finally picks up the drink and takes a tentative sip - Killian pretends not to be paying attention, but his lip tic's up in amusement when her eyes blink open in surprise. So he'd remembered correctly.

The table read goes by rather quickly - he finds himself jumping quite easily into the rhythm the rest of the cast already has - it's _fun_ , and by the end half the cast seems as smitten with him as the writers. 

Swan seems less convinced. 

She gives Nolan a weak smile when the man comes over to pat Killian on the back, inviting him out for drinks while he mutters something about someone named Kristoff owing him a pint, and hides an eye-roll when Scarlett praises him on the shape of the character - "Bit rough on the accent, though, should work on your inflection, mate." 

She seems entirely unimpressed with him, almost _annoyed_ by his presence, and Killian waits for the crowd to disperse before he approaches her. 

She's guzzling the last of her drink when he stops before her, rolling the chair beside her around so that the back faces her, arms hanging over the backrest as he makes a rather lewd display of wide-legged nonchalance. She shoots the cup an angry glare as she sets it down.

"How was it?" he asks, purposely vague, wondering what she'll settle on as to his meaning, and she takes a deep breath as she stares him down.

"It was cold," she tells him, and Killian can't help but be amused by how well she's taken the bait. 

"You drank the whole thing." 

Her fingers dance along the edges of the table, before she looks him full on the face. "How did you know about the cinnamon?"

He feels his grin go wolfish, eyebrow wagging as he stares her down, and her face flushes under the realization. "You must have been drinking something similar before the chemistry test," he tells her, and she huffs in annoyance. He likes seeing her like this - flustered, fidgety, full of the kind of tense, intrigued discomfort he's used to seeing on women just before they drag him off to bed. 

Still, she pretends she doesn't quite understand. "How could you possibly know that?"

"That was quite the kiss, Swan."

He finds himself delighted to see the flush edge along the tips of her ears, wonders exactly how far that blush goes. 

It had been a spur of the moment thing - nothing in the script had called for them to kiss, in fact they were supposed to end the scene before, but he'd been giddy at the way they _worked_ together, and they'd already played a bit with the words on the page, going off script here and there with him following her lead - he'd merely meant to make her smile when he'd thrown up the challenge - "Is that all your fathers life is worth?" he'd asked, going off the lines they'd been running only moments earlier, and she'd gotten this look in her eyes, rising to the challenge. "Perhaps _you're_ the one who couldn't handle it," he'd said, and that, really, had been the final nail in the coffin. 

He'd been as shocked as anyone when she'd grabbed at the lapels of his jacket, dragging him in for a less-than-stage-like kiss - lips battling, teeth clashing, and oh, there had definitely been tongue. She'd tasted of chocolate and cinnamon and defiance and he'd known from that moment on he was done for.

"Whatever. One time thing, and all." 

(It won't be, it's bloody _scripted_ that way - he's seen recent drafts and he's positive the writers have added at least three more kiss scenes than he remembers from the last time.)

"Perhaps," he says, tongue tucked into his cheek as he grins at her, and she glares at him as she stands, tugging on her jacket like it's the only thing keeping her from fleeing the room in terror. 

"Anyway, thanks for the - thanks." She gestures with the empty cup in her hands, her smiled forced as she stares at him for a moment too long. "See you later."

"Oh, undoubtedly," he tells her, and he can see her mind whirling as she fights the urge to call him out on his speech habits. She turns away from him, her footsteps forcefully slow, as though she's fighting the urge to jog away from him. His grin widens as he watches her go.

\------  
 _ **  
Killian Jones: Meet The Man Behind the Hook**_

Emma glares hard at Mary Margaret as the woman bustles around the kitchen, grabbing a fistful of the tabloid to wave in her friends direction. 

"Seriously? You hate this trash."

"Only when they write it about me," she singsongs with a deliberately delicate grin in Emma's direction. 

"You're actually the worst human being on the planet. I don't know how you've got everyone else fooled."

She jumps when David slides onto the stool beside her. "It's those fluttering lashes of hers. And that bright smile. No one understands the terror that lurks beneath her angelic voice."

Mary Margaret chooses that moment to smack David over the head with the towel over her shoulder, and he gestures with a wide-eyed gleam in his gaze. "You see?"

"Anyway, I think you need to give this Killian a chance. David likes him."

"David likes everyone. It's his biggest failing. That and the way he looks when he grows his hair past his chin."

"I'll have you know I got a lot of compliments on that hair." He snaps his fingers and points at her. "And hey. I do not like everyone. Cassidy, for instance. I had him pegged from day one."

"No one likes Cassidy, David."

"Yeah, but I _never_ liked him, so..."

Emma ignores the two as they banter back and forth for a moment, trying not the let the turn of conversation effect her. It's been long enough that it doesn't really have the right to bug her any longer, and she really does want to be able to talk about it as easily as Mary Margaret and David do - like a joke, like a one-off thing, like it hadn't nearly broken her and ruined her career.

"So Killian."

Mary Margaret is giving her an expectant stare, and Emma shrugs, eyeing the granite countertop with far too much curiosity for someone who'd seen this countertop every morning for the last two years. "He's fine, I guess."

"Despite his reputation, he seems quite gentlemanly."

She bites back a comment on her own mistrust of chivalry - it will lead them down a long path to Nowhereville and Emma is in no mood to argue the semantics of door-opening and chair-holding tonight. She sticks with the reputation bit, because that will definitely get her mind off of the man and his unfortunate attention to detail.

Emma takes the mug Mary Margaret offers her without thinking, expecting tea and nearly losing a lung in the coughing fit that ensues when she tries to expel the drink from her body via her nose. Hot cocoa has failed her - her favorite drink and now she can't even take a sip of it without thinking about what an idiot she'd been to kiss the man. Why had she kissed him? What had possessed her to do such a thing? He wasn't any more handsome than a good half the men she worked with, wasn't any more charming, in fact he'd been annoying and had pushed her buttons from the moment she'd walked through the door. 

That had been the _point_ \- unresolved sexual tension was the very thing they'd been looking for with this casting, and Jesus, the man had walked in and made her jittery and uncomfortable from the moment she'd met him.

It had worked, though - whatever she was feeling, the Powers That Be had taken one look at the two of them together and seen dollar signs.

"Emma? How you doin' there?"

She waves off David's concerned back pat, glares hard at the whipped cream in her drink, and sighs. "Killian is fine. I'm just not in the mood for the media circus that happens when they decide I'm next in line to be another notch in his bedpost."

And there it is. Killian Jones, B-List actor who, according to rumor, has dated every single co-star he's ever worked with, dragging himself up the ranks through sheer force of will (or a magical penis, take your pick) - Killian Jones who flirts like it's a God-given talent and stares at her like she's a five-course meal, he's going to be working more closely with her than anyone else for the duration of this shoot. After Neil she'd promised herself she'd never date a co-star again, and she's damn well sticking to that promise.

Why the fuck had she kissed him?

"I'm going to bed," she tells her roommate with a sigh, abandoning her still steaming mug of cocoa with a soft squeeze at David's shoulder, and they both watch her go in silence. 

Halfway up the stairs to the loft she hears her friend murmur softly. "Maybe I should go talk to her."

David's voice is almost too quiet to hear. "Let her be. She's a big girl. She'll be fine."

She lets the door shut behind her with more force than she means to.

\------

_**Romance On Set: Has Killian Jones captured the heart of his newest co-star?** _

_Emma Swan has become a household name - with an Oscar under her belt and one of the biggest franchises of the last ten years, she has graced our screens and won our hearts. But has she won the heart of someone special?_

_After the drama that ensued last year when her co-star, Neil Cassidy, unexpectedly quit the series, we all wondered if Emma would recover with grace, and it seems she has - though unconfirmed, sources close to the crew believe there may be another burgeoning romance for our favorite action starlet - one Killian Jones, recently cast in the upcoming third installment of the trilogy, has been seen cozying up to Swan in recent days._

_Will romance blossom between the gorgeous two-some? It's anyone's guess, but if we had it our way, they'd be quite the epic duo._


End file.
